COWBOY: His ranch. His rules. His secrets. (Taking Charge Book 1)

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Hi Mitzi, what's wrong?"

  "It's your father," she declared as they entered the expansive foyer. "I'm worried sick."

  "Why?"

  "I'm sorry, sugar, do you need to go up to your room and freshen up?"

  "It's okay, Mitzi," he said, dropping his bag. "Let's go into the front room and you can tell me what's goin' on."

  "Thank you, thank you," she gushed, leading him into the comfortable living room. "Sit next to me. I need to keep my voice down. Servants gossip."

  "You have more than just the housekeeper?"

  "Harlan doesn't want me cooking so we now we have a chef. You know the housekeeper is full-time, but now she has someone who does nothing but the floors three days a week."

  "Honestly I'm not surprised she wanted help. Mom had both."

  "Your mother had you and all your friends."

  "This is true."

  "Personally I think we should move somewhere smaller, anyway, about your father."

  "Yes, about my father. What's got you so wound up?"

  "He's working night and day."

  "He's always worked night and day."

  "Not like this," she said, emphatically shaking her head. "He's out of bed at the crack of dawn, and he stays up all night. He used to come to bed around eleven and we'd watch the news together, but now he's in his office downstairs on the phone, or pacing around the house. The man never sleeps, then he'll suddenly crash. You'll see. His eyes are puffy with have dark circles around them, they're are always red, and he's been losing weight. I don't know what's driving him like this."

  "Huh. That sounds extreme even for him. Let's see, I was here six weeks ago and I do remember some of that, but I only saw him briefly."

  "I'm telling you something's not right, and hasn't been for a long time, but it's getting worse fast. Please will you talk to him? You know he adores you."

  "Uh, sure, of course I'll talk to him, but I'm not sure he'll listen."

  "Thank you, sugar."

  "I'm glad you told me, but I can't promise I'll have any luck. Speaking of being up at the crack of dawn, if you'll excuse me I'm going up to my room for a shower and a nap."

  "Is there anything special you'd like for dinner? Anton cooks everything."

  "Anton? That's the name of your chef? Is he French or Italian?"

  "I have no idea."

  "I don't care. Surprise me."

  "I can't tell you relieved I am that you're here. I've been praying you'd show up. I sure hope you can get some answers."

  "I'll do my best."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Sitting at the dining room table, Carly had the pad of paper in front of her and had written down everything Elsie had told her, but picking up the phone to call her father she paused.

  "Is something the matter?" Elsie asked. "Have you changed your mind?"

  "No, not at all. I have to tell both mom and dad about the accident and I'm thinking of conferencing them in, then keeping dad on the line."

  "Why don't you?"

  "It'll be a war, it always is."

  "If you don't mind me asking, is this why you wanted to live in a small town on a quiet ranch?"

  "It's exactly why," Carly replied with a sigh, "along with being sick of the noise and craziness of the show barns, and now that I think about it I don't want to listen to them squabble. I'll call my dad, then I'll call mom. Hopefully he won't be playing golf," she said as she touched his name.

  "Sweetheart, what a lovely surprise."

  "Hi dad."

  "How's the new job?"

  "Fantastic."

  "Are you calling to say hello or is there something going on?"

  "Uh, do you want to hear the bad news first, or the favor?"

  "The bad news, let's get that out of the way."

  "Daisy got smashed by a flying tree branch in a windstorm. She's completely wrecked."

  "WHAT? Are you okay?"

  "Of course. What do you want me to do?"

  "Send me the pictures and I'll contact Fred. Think about what you'd like to replace it with, and please, Carly, I'm begging you, let me buy you a nice new modern vehicle that has airbags and four-wheel disc brakes, maybe even four-wheel drive. I know you like your independence, but your poor old dad was worried sick with you driving around in that—"

  "Careful, dad."

  "I was going to say, that beautifully renovated classic. It was pretty, but it wasn't safe!"

  "That's really sweet of you dad, but—"

  "Don't say but. Please just think about it."

  "Okay, I'll think about it."

  "What's the favor?"

  "Uh, there's more than one."

  "You can ask as many as you want and I'll grant them all if you let me buy you something NEW."

  "You never give up."

  "Not where you're welfare is concerned. What's the favor?"

  "There's a lovely lady who works here and I think her boyfriend was railroaded. He's in Bellworth and he's up for parole in a couple of weeks. The first favor is, can you look at the file? See if there's anything there that screams foul? The second is, she's worried that someone might try to interfere with his parole. Is there anything you can do about that?"

  "Put her on the phone, please."

  "Sure. Her name is Elsie. Here you go, Elsie," she said, handing her the phone. "Dad needs to talk to you."

  "Mr. Kincaid, sorry if this is an imposition."

  "Please, call me Michael, and it's no imposition. What's your friend's name and who was his attorney?"

  "Gary Campbell is my friend, and his attorney was Jim Bolson."

  "Uh-huh. How did your friend end up with Jim Bolson?"

  "I don't know. I never asked."

  "Do you have a fax there?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm going to send you over an agreement. It will state that you're retaining my services for one-dollar. Sign it and fax it back to me then I can have Bolson turn over your friend's file."

  "This is so kind of you, thank you."

  "No problem, and I'm fairly confident I'll find something."

  "Really?" she asked, her heart skipping. "You think so?"

  "I do. Jim Bolson isn't the sharpest of lawyers. Who is this person you think will try to interfere in the parole process. That's very serious."

  "Uh, Harlan Boyd."

  Carly's mouth dropped. The celebrated oil tycoon was Keith's father?

  "Excuse me, Elsie," Michael said slowly, "just so I understand, are you talking about Harlan Boyd of Boyd Holdings?"

  "Yes, he's my brother. Mr. Kincaid—sorry—Michael, may I ask you something?"

  "Of course. I'm your lawyer, or soon will be. You can ask me anything."

  "Carly told me you're a criminal defense attorney, but she didn't say how you could help with the parole hearing."

  "I'm also a parole lawyer, and let me assure you, it is highly unlikely that anyone, not even Harlan Boyd, would be able to influence your friend's parole. I'll look over his case, and I'm happy to represent him at the hearing. When is it?"

  "In two weeks."

  "That doesn't give me much time. Get that paperwork back to me as soon as you can. What's the fax number?"

  Carly had been absently staring at the stack of pancakes as Elsie had talked to her father, but her mind had been on the shocking news she'd just heard. Harlan Boyd was Keith's father! She couldn't believe it.

  "Your dad wants to say goodbye."

  "Oh, of course," she said, snapping up her head. "Hey, dad."

  "That's quite a connection you've made. Harlan Boyd's sister?"

  "It was news to me, and there's more but it will have to wait."

  "You've been a busy girl."

  "I plead the fifth. Can I ask about the next favor?"

  "Can I buy you a new car?"

  "Dad!"

  "It's a yes or no answer."

  "I said I'll think about it and I will. Does Mitch still work for you?"

  "Mitch is still my P.I.
Why?"

  "I need him to find someone for me. Is that okay?"

  "Sure, but can you tell me who and why?"

  "I'll text you the information right now."

  "What do you want him to do if he finds this person?"

  "Just get me the information, and I have a feeling it won't be difficult to track her down."

  "Anything else for your old man?"

  "No, daddy, except thank you, and I love you to bits."

  "You're welcome, sweetheart. Come and visit me soon."

  "I will, I promise."

  Ending the call, she immediately texted him Theresa's information, then laid the phone on the table and stared across at Elsie.

  "Harlan Boyd?" she exclaimed. "So Keith Parker is Heath Boyd. Holy crap. I thought he looked familiar when I met him, but it's been years since I've looked at the Houston society pages or gossip magazines. Why has he been hiding out here? Can you tell me anything?"

  "I suppose there's no reason why I shouldn't at this point. He chose the name Keith because it sounded so much like Heath it was easy for us to remember when we started this ranch. Harlan has been hell-bent on him taking over the helm of Boyd Holdings, and all Heath ever wanted was to be a cowboy. A few years back he and Andy decided they both wanted to break free. Andy didn't have the money or business experience, and Heath didn't have Andy's horsemanship skills and experience. They decided to team up, but Heath had to keep it under wraps. Harlan was becoming more difficult, and if he'd found out—well—we don't know what he would have done and Heath wasn't going to take any chances. About the same time Gary was arrested and I fell out with Harlan. It was a bad time for me, but Heath asked if I would join him. It was a lifeline."

  "My gosh. This is unbelievable."

  "He's led a secret double life and it's been difficult. If someone recognized him here and decided to make a quick buck and contact a sleazy gossip reporter, I can't even imagine how his father would react, Those rags have spies everywhere."

  "I'm in shock. Honestly, I am."

  "I probably should have let him tell you all that, and he was planning on it, but, well, here we are. This trip to Houston is to confront his father. He's going to tell him everything, and I think you're a big part of the reason why."

  "Me?"

  "He's not a naturally duplicitous person, and being so secretive with you wasn't sitting well with him. I think you were the straw that broke the camel's back. He'd started hitting the wall a few months back."

  "I don't care who he is. It makes no difference to me. Starving cowboy or a rich one, I don't care. I'm so in love with that man I can hardly stand it. In fact, I'm so crazy about him I just realized I ate two more pancakes than I thought."

  Tilting her head to the side Elsie stared at the stack. There were three flapjacks left.

  "Wait a second. When I came in from the store I checked and I wondered why you'd only eaten one. There were six even."

  "If that's true then…huh…maybe Salvo or Andy have been up here."

  "It wasn't Andy. He's still dragging that tractor in the arena. He was in there when I left and when I got back, and Salvo would never let himself in, never. He always calls and knocks on the door unless he's been invited."

  "Someone else has been in here? No, that's impossible. It has to be one of them. Who else would come in here and take two pancakes?"

  "That would be me," the sandy-haired man exclaimed walking in from the hallway. "Hello, Elsie love. Aren't you happy to see me? It's our anniversary in two days, or had you forgotten?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It only took a moment for Carly to recognize the tall scraggly man in the doorway was the worker she'd seen the day before, but how did he know Elsie?

  "I don't know what you want," Carly exclaimed, rising to her feet and scowling at him, "but you'd better get the hell out of here."

  "Sure, I'll be happy to leave, but not without my wife."

  Staring at him intently, Carly realized he was the dour man in the photograph next to Elsie. He'd bleached his hair and his eyebrows were thinner, but it was him.

  "Brice, I am NOT your wife!" Elsie exclaimed, wishing she could control her rising panic. "What's wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?"

  "I told you if you left me I'd ruin your brother, and if you dared to go out with anyone else I'd ruin him too."

  "But—but—that was years ago."

  "I'm a patient man, Elsie, and I've done both. I knew you'd be hiding out with that snot-nosed nephew. It's taken me a long fucking time to find you, but now he's going down too. Before we leave I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

  "Nooo," she gasped, staring at him in shock. "It was you! All this time I've been blaming Harlan and it was you! You were the one who planted all that money and cocaine in Gary's house!"

  "Yep," the man said proudly, puffing out his chest, "but I decided a simple arrest was too good for your brother. That snake threatened me one too many times."

  "What have you done to him?"

  "Hah. Wouldn't you like to know? I'm going to let you stew on that for a while. Maybe I'll tell you when we go out to dinner for our anniversary."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

  "Then I'm gonna stick around and have some fun with your little friend here. There's a real fancy bedroom at the end of the hall," he sneered, pulling a pistol from a shoulder holster. "What's your name gorgeous?"

  "Up yours."

  "Huh, that's an unusual name. I think I'l call you Kitty. Now why don't the three of us take a wander?"

  "NO!" Elsie shouted, jumping to her feet. "Don't you dare touch her! I'll go with you but only if you leave her alone."

  "You stupid bitch. That deal's off the table now, but don't worry, you'll be coming with me when I leave. I just want some sport before we take off, although, now that I think about it, maybe I'll take her along and she can work for us. Yeah, I'd sure like to see her in a sexy maid's outfit."

  "Excuse me," Carly said angrily, "if anyone's stupid around here it's you. The guys here will be walking in that door any minute to finish their breakfast."

  "Nice try. You've only got two hicks here. One is dragging the ring and the other, that Salvo kid, he's putting up a new carport. No, we won't be disturbed, and if we are I'm more than happy to incapacitate an interfering busybody. Now move."

  Carly thought frantically for some way to stall, and when her phone rang and she saw the caller was her mother she almost cried. It was nothing less than another miracle.

  "It's my mom," she said urgently. "If I don't take this she'll know something's wrong. She calls me every day at this time to make sure I'm all right."

  Brice eyed her suspiciously.

  "It's up to you, but if I don't answer she'll call one of the guys to check the house."

  "Fuck. Put it on speaker, and if you say anything you shouldn't I'll pulverize Elsie's face."

  "Sure, no problem," Carly said hastily. "I just have to let her know I'm okay. Mom, hi."

  "Hello, honey. What's this about an accident? Tell me. I want to hear every last detail."

  "I can't at the moment, though there is something you should know."

  "What could be more important than your truck getting hit by a frickin' tree?"

  "It was just a branch, but mom, I'm having lunch with Roger tomorrow."

  There was a pause.

  "Mom, did you hear me? I know it's a surprise, but yes, I'm having lunch with Roger tomorrow."

  "Roger? Are you serious?"

  "Yes, very."

  "Where?"

  "Here at the ranch. We'll be dining in the main house."

  "I'll let your father know right away."

  "Thanks, that saves me a call. I need to get off the phone now, but I love you mom, and when you talk to dad tell him I love him too."

  "I love you, honey. Call me when you can talk about the accident."

  "Sure will."

  "Bye."

  "Bye."

  "Lea
ve your fucking phone where it is and let's go," Brice said sharply, waving the gun towards the hall. "Straight to that fancy bedroom. Do anything stupid and you'll be sorry."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  In his wood-paneled den in his luxurious home in Houston, Harlan had just finished listening to his only child, his pride and joy, his brilliant, handsome amazing son, tell a story he found impossible to believe. Heath had been executing his work at Boyd Holdings while building a whole other business. A horse ranch of all things.

  "So you see, dad, I haven't been travelin'. I've been workin' for the company from my home office at the ranch. Bein' a cowboy is all I care about, and I know I'm probably a huge disappointment but it's in my blood. I can't sit in one of those glass cages and stare out at buildings all day, and that's why I'm here to formally hand in my resignation."

  "You're just like your mother," Harlan mumbled. "You get this horse thing from her."

  "You used to say that when I'd leave to go to the stables with her. You weren't wrong then and you're not wrong now, but it's something I'm proud of."

  "I should've bought a ranch for the two of you, but I was always so worried you'd fall off one of those broncs and kill yourself."

  "Dad, you're takin' this really well, or am I wrong? I thought you'd go ballistic."

  "I'm real tired today, son."

  "You weren't tired when I spoke to you a little while ago. You sounded great."

  "I have energy, then it goes away."

  "So, you're okay with this? My ranch, I mean."

  "Hell no, I've always imagined you'd take over the business, but I've known for a long time your heart's not in it. If it was, you would have been with me night and day, so yeah, it's okay."

  "Wait, you said you're not okay with it," Heath said slowly, "but just now you said you are. Which is it?"

  "Ssh. I'm listening to your mother in my head right now."

  "Dad, are you okay?"

  "Hush, your mother's talking to me. She's saying you need to blaze your own trail. Yep, I agree, Mabel. Ticks me off but what matters most is that he's happy."

  "Something's very wrong with you," Heath mumbled, watching his father roll his eyes back and stare at the ceiling. "Dad, I need to talk to Mitzi. I'll be back in a minute."